Shade shook her head, her expression suggesting that there was something the others hadn't considered.
"Actually... that might not be entirely true."
The three men turned toward her. Merlin raised an eyebrow, curious about what she was implying.
"Why? Are you suggesting something?"
Shade nodded.
"The Nameless One investigated him."
Merlin chuckled. "You don't want to say his name? Are you his subo—"
"Partner," Shade interrupted calmly. "Faction member. Associate. Whatever term you prefer. But never subordinate."
Merlin smiled and raised his hands slightly.
"Fair enough. You were saying?"
Shade sighed before continuing.
"He investigated Dante. His surname is supposedly Isaiah, and he's believed to have been born in the Northeastern Continent. He's an elf with white hair and blue eyes, and apparently, he comes from some form of noble background."
Merlin frowned.
"What exactly does any of that have to do with the Ancient Families?"
Shade looked directly at him.
"Do you know what colour the hair of Jurian II Sandrian was?"
Merlin's expression remained unchanged.
"White. Long white hair."
Shade nodded.
"Dante has white hair."
Merlin stared at her for several seconds before finally sighing.
"If you're trying to draw some connection between Dante and one of the Ancient Families, you'd have better luck spitting on that black hole in the sky and expecting it to disappear."
Shade shrugged.
"I'm not saying he's a Sandrian. I'm saying we shouldn't dismiss the possibility simply because it sounds ridiculous."
Merlin folded his arms, considering her argument.
"Let's examine what we actually know. He has long white hair, he's an elf, he's supposedly from the Northeastern Continent... Yes, those are interesting coincidences, but they're hardly proof."
He glanced toward the enormous black hole dominating the sky.
"Very few people have ever entered the Northeastern Continent. In fact, we don't even know what the continent truly looks like. The gravitational pressure surrounding the region is so absurd that most attempts to approach it fail. Something exists there, something powerful, but beyond that... we know almost nothing."
Lazarus nodded in agreement.
"Exactly. There's very little reliable information connecting the Ancient Families to the Northeastern Continent. Most of what exists are rumors."
He scoffed.
"Some are called verified rumors. Whatever the hell that is supposed to mean."
Shade smiled faintly.
"I understand, but completely ignoring those rumors isn't exactly intelligent either."
She looked between them before asking, "Did either of you know the true history of the Central Continent before coming here?"
Lazarus paused.
"No."
Merlin's expression became slightly annoyed.
"...Neither did I."
Shade nodded.
"Exactly. The things we thought we knew about the Ancient Families... most of them were rumors. Some turned out to be false, while others became accepted as truth simply because they had been repeated for thousands of years."
She folded her arms.
"One of those stories claims that the ancient founders of the Sandrian Family eventually settled within the Northeastern Continent. According to the rumors, their descendants eventually divided the region among three major peoples: the Pure Elves, the Dark Elves, and the Barbarian Tribes."
Merlin frowned.
"Rumors."
"Exactly," Shade replied. "Rumors. Which is why I'm not claiming Dante is a Sandrian."
Merlin considered the information for a moment.
"Still... white hair."
He paused, then continued.
"Blue eyes. An elf. Born in the Northeastern Continent."
His expression became increasingly thoughtful as another detail came to mind.
"Even the eyes... the Grand Concubine of the Sandrian Empire is known for having blue eyes."
Shade smiled.
"And there is something else."
Merlin looked at her.
"His information."
"Exactly."
Shade's voice became quieter as she explained.
"The Nameless One couldn't find anything substantial about Dante. Not contradictory information, not false information, and not conflicting records. Nothing."
She held up a finger.
"Zero."
Then another.
"Not even unreliable rumors."
And finally, a third.
"Not even a fabricated history. Just... nothing."
Silence settled over the group. Merlin's expression slowly hardened as he considered the implications.
"That's... unusual."